


Yuri!!! on Ice Drabble Collection

by otayuriistheliteralbest



Series: Drabble Prompt Fics [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Confessions, Drabble Collection, Family Fluff, Fluff, Husbands, Jjbek, M/M, Pining Otabek Altin, Sick Character, Vikturio, otayuri - Freeform, phiciaociao
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2018-11-12 11:45:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 3,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11161194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otayuriistheliteralbest/pseuds/otayuriistheliteralbest
Summary: I requested prompts on Tumblr, and this is where they will live after I post them there! Prompts and ships (if applicable) are the chapter titles. :)First prompt: “If you make one more stupid pun, I will literally stab you,” Yuri responded, his eye twitching as he pinched the bridge of his nose.





	1. "If you make one more stupid pun, I will literally stab you."

**Author's Note:**

> For @frozenrendezvous on Tumblr! WOOOOO BUDDY I LOVE YOU FOR REQUESTING THIS.
> 
> 35\. “If you make one more stupid pun, I will literally stab you.”

JJ was grating on Yuri’s nerves. 

It was the Grand Prix Final once again, and the two of them were the top contending skaters in the men’s singles after the short programs the day before, along with Otabek and some young upstarts from Japan and the United States. Yuri didn’t even know their names, didn’t really care. All that mattered to him was that Otabek was still competing, even in his late 20′s and barely able to still hold a place in competition. These young skaters were all landing quads like it was the easiest thing in the world, when all it did was make Yuri’s bones ache nowadays and he questioned what he was still doing in professional figure skating. 

At 25, Yuri wasn’t shabby, but he certainly wasn’t the best anymore. Not like he was back when he premiered in the senior division at 15 years old. Fuck, had it already been 10 years since his debut in the senior division? Yuri groaned aloud at the thought of how old he felt.

“What, is the Otabae not taking you to otabed anymore? I can talk to him about that if you like.” Yuri’s eye twitched and he turned to face the annoying piece of shit that he’d come to appreciate over the years for his simplistic attitude and stupidity. You always knew what you would get with the cocky Canadian skater. 

JJ wasn’t  _ actually _ stupid, not that Yuri would admit that, but when the Canadian got into his stupid little moods and was making stupid little jokes in English, it was all Yuri could do to keep himself from wringing his stupid little neck.

“If you make one more stupid pun, I will literally stab you,” Yuri responded, his eye twitching as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Seriously, is he not  _ Otabanging  _ you enough?” the Canadian skater asked with a cheeky grin. “I’d be happy to help with that.” JJ winked at the blonde at the word ‘help.’

Yuri screeched and jumped from his seat on the bench to smack the grin off of JJ’s stupid fucking face.


	2. “Is that my shirt?”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otayuri, prompt: “Is that my shirt?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For @crescendotayuri on Tumblr!
> 
> "Is that my shirt?"
> 
> ...I mayyyy have doubled the length of this drabble since I posted it on Tumblr. Updating the tags accordingly. Super fluffy sweetness ahead.

Otabek’s hand stilled the toothbrush in his mouth, staring into the mirror at the vision in the doorway. Yuri was visiting him in Almaty in the off-season, years after they'd met for the second time in Barcelona, and they had stayed up late the night before watching silly romantic comedies. Otabek spat out the toothpaste that was starting to pool at his lips before it could spill over and quickly rinsed the rest out of his mouth, setting the toothbrush to the side of the sink. 

He stared, fascinated and curious and just a little bit aroused at the sight of Yuri posing in the floor-length bedroom mirror in the other room - the angle of the bathroom mirror was perfect for him to be able to watch the other skater undisturbed, without him seeing Otabek stare.

Yuri wore the shortest of shorts possible on a man, and had his hands trailing through his messy hair, raising it up into a pile on top of his head and then releasing it to cascade around his shoulders. He pursed his lips, tilted and posed in the other mirror, twisting this way and that. That in itself was fanning the twin flames in Otabek’s cheeks, but what _really_ fascinated the man was the shirt that Yuri was posing in. More specifically, it was _Otabek’s_ shirt that Yuri was wearing, the one that he had slept in the night before that was just a little too big and a little too soft with a few too many holes in it to be worn in public, but was the absolutely most comfortable thing to sleep in.

Yuri lifted up the neckline of the well-worn shirt to cover the bottom half of his face, breathing in deep. Clearly smelling Otabek on the shirt.

Otabek turned around and opened the bathroom door wide, pretending that he had seen nothing until he lifted his eyes to the vision before him.

“Is that my shirt?”

Yuri froze, the collar of the t-shirt dropping from his hands, which he buried in his face, embarrassed. He mumbled something into his hands that Otabek couldn't quite hear. Otabek smirked and leaned against the doorframe, hands in his pockets, trying to look casual even though his heart was thumping in his throat.

"What was that, Yura? I couldn't hear you with your hands covering your mouth. I asked, is that my shirt you're wearing?"

Yuri lifted his head from his hands. His face was flushed scarlet, and he chewed on his lip, glancing at Otabek's reflexion in the mirror.

"Yes..." he finally forced himself to say. "It's your shirt."

Otabek quirked an eyebrow. "And just why are you standing in my room, wearing my sleeping shirt, _smelling_ it? Hmmmm?"

Yuri looked away from Otabek's inquiring eyes to stare at a spot on the floor.

Otabek smiled and padded gently over to his best friend. "Well?"

"...I like the way you smell, okay?" Yuri wouldn't look up at Otabek, so the Kazakh closed the gap between them and placed his hands on Yuri's shoulders, forcing the 18 year old to turn and face him.

Otabek's heart melted a little at his best friend's confession, and he cupped Yuri's cheek with one hand, rubbing his thumb against his flushed skin.

"Is that all, Yura?" he whispered. "Because I feel like there's something more, but if there isn't please just tell me now and we can pretend like this didn't happen. Tell me there isn't anything more, and we'll go change to go on that bike ride like we'd planned this morning."

Yuri leaned his face into Otabek's hand. "There's more, Beka. There's so much more that I don't really understand it." The blonde finally looked into Otabek's eyes, inches away from his own. "Help me to understand it?"

Otabek's breath hitched, and he leaned in to tentatively kiss Yuri's parted lips. Yuri wrapped his arms around Otabek's waist and pulled him closer. They lost themselves in the kiss, until they had to stop to breathe. Yuri rested his forehead against Otabek's and laughed nervously.

"Can we still go on that bike ride?" He asked, eyes bright with the smile he reserved for Otabek alone.


	3. “Should I be worried?” "Is the grass green?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from @kingotabek: Person A: “Should I be worried?” Person B: “Is the grass green?” Otayuri
> 
> ...I don't know why, but when I first wrote this I had Yuri calling Otabek "Beks" instead of "Beka" so I decided to keep it. This has been sitting in my drafts FOREVER. TT^TT SORRY!!!!
> 
> Thank you to @cherryfeather101 on Tumblr and the ever-wonderful Sasha for beta'ing this for me!

“Should I be worried?” Otabek asked, hands itching to reach for the handles.

“Is the grass green?” Yuri responded, a grin on his face and in his voice. He started up the motorcycle, Otabek gripping tight around his waist, and the Ice Tiger of Russia released the throttle to get on the road.

Otabek had been teaching Yuri how to drive a motorcycle for the past few weeks, and _really_ , at this point theory wasn’t enough and it was time for the Russian skater to get behind the wheel. Yuri peeled out of the side road where Otabek had stopped the motorcycle and made his way out into the countryside.

The two of them had decided that a busy city was really not the best place for Yuri to try to drive a motorcycle on his own for the first time; so Otabek had driven them out into the wilderness, if it could be called that, that surrounded Almaty. The bike squeaked against concrete in a way that Otabek didn’t really like, but he was giving his boyfriend a chance to show what he had learnt. It didn’t mean that the 25-year-old skater had to like it. He gripped on tight to Yuri’s waist and prayed that the younger man wouldn’t kill them both on their week long summer break from practice. Not that they ever stopped practicing - they were just doing a lot of off-ice training instead.

It was in this moment that Otabek realized just how much he hated giving up control of his motorcycle to anyone else. He loved Yuri, of course, but the feeling of his bike being under someone else’s control was terrifying, to say the least. He found himself praying to the nonexistent motorcycle gods to let him live through this ride in one piece.

“You okay, Beks?” Yuri shouted over the wind. Otabek could barely hear him over the whistling wind that rushed by them. He was sure that they were going far too fast, and he could barely keep his eyes open.

“I’m fine!” He called back to his boyfriend. “You’re doing great, Yura!” His voice cracked saying the word _great_ , but thankfully the wind covered that up.

Yuri let out a joyful whoop and sped up, zooming down the paved road as trees whipped by them. Otabek winced and gripped Yuri’s waist just a little bit tighter, sweat forming on his palms as his nerves took over.

They drove for several miles until finally Yuri slowed down as they made their way around a lake. He found a pull off from the road and made his way as far as he could down to the dock that had been visible from the road. Otabek sighed the moment Yuri parked and turned off the motorcycle, leaning against his boyfriend’s back in relief.

Yuri bit out a laugh at the heavy weight on his back. “Did I murder you, Beks?”

Otabek groaned and took off his helmet, shucking it to the grass beside the bike as lightly as he could. He rubbed his face against the leather jacket Yuri sported, trying to bring some feeling beyond panic back into his bones.

“I’m okay, just...didn’t realize how much I like being in control of my bike,” he replied. Otabek lifted his weight off of Yuri’s back and swung his leg off the motorcycle to settle his feet on the ground. He stretched, raising his arms above his head and bending to loosen up his tensed muscles.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, you’re a good teacher,” Yuri said. He hopped off of the bike and gave Otabek a reassuring hug. “Want to hang out for a while before we head back? It’s so peaceful out here.”

“Sure.” Otabek nodded. “...but can I drive us home?”

Yuri laughed. “No way, Beks. You need to get over your fear of giving up control. Plus, I need the practice if I’m going to be getting my own bike sometime soon.”

“Your own-? Yura, hold on!” Otabek called out as Yuri chuckled at his worried boyfriend, skipping towards the edge of the lake. Otabek chased after him, finally catching up to Yuri at the start of the dock. He grabbed Yuri’s hand and the couple walked out to the end of the dock. Yuri plopped down, tugging Otabek along with him. They pulled off their shoes and socks, rolling up their pants legs so they could dangle their feet in the water. Yuri rested his head on Otabek’s shoulder, swinging his legs and creating little waves in the water.

They stared peacefully at the lake until it was time to head home. 

Yuri drove, much to Otabek’s chagrin.


	4. “You didn’t just wake me up at 2am because you were ‘in the mood.’”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otayuri, T, “You didn’t just wake me up at 2am because you were ‘in the mood.’” prompt from wands-n-lillies on Tumblr!

A hand clenched around Otabek’s stomach, jerking him into wakefulness. His eyes shot straight to the alarm clock on his bedside table, and he could blearily make out the numbers ‘2:04 AM’ on its surface. He groaned and flipped onto his back, displacing a sleepy-but-awake Yuri Plisetsky from his position as the big spoon.

“Mmmm, why’d you move, Beka?” The blond asked groggily. He wrapped his limbs back around Otabek’s sleep-warm body, letting his leg brush against Otabek with a sly grin that he tried - and failed - to hide in Otabek’s shoulder.

Otabek rolled his eyes behind closed lids.

“You didn’t just wake me up at 2am because you were ‘in the mood,’ Yura. Can’t sleep?” He asked.

Yuri stilled his movements and sighed, plopping his head on Otabek’s shoulder.

“No,” he said gloomily. “I woke up from a nightmare that we were at the GPF again and I skated everything perfectly, down to the last raised arm and quad.”

Otabek laughed lightly and wrapped his arm around Yuri’s shoulders. “That doesn’t sound like a nightmare to me, Yura.”

The blond lifted his head to glare down at Otabek.

“It is when, even though I’d score a world record with that FS, I was beaten out for gold by Makkachin.”


	5. “Can you just man up and change his diaper?”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vikturio, T, “Can you just man up and change his diaper?” prompt from gay-boyflower593 on Tumblr

“Can you just man up and change his diaper?” Yuri demanded. His husband was clearly stalling, hovering over their wailing son on the changing table. They had adopted Erik only a month ago, and Viktor had somehow managed to avoid changing the baby’s diaper every  _single_  time. Until now.

“It’s  _not_  difficult, Vitya.” Yuri rubbed his forehead, willing the husband-sized headache to go away.

Viktor stepped up to the changing table, cooing at Erik. Yuri could see a drop of sweat rolling down the back of Viktor’s neck.

“Viktor…have you never changed a diaper before?” Yuri asked. Viktor’s head whipped up, a lock of his silver hair sticking against his forehead in the quick movement. His eyes widened as he looked up at Yuri, who had planted his hands on his hips in frustration.

“Err…..no,” Viktor responded, blushing a deep red and looking back down at Erik.

Yuri rolled his eyes and muttered a curse under his breath, stepping forward to stand beside Viktor at the changing table.

“Fine, watch what I do, okay?” he told Viktor, who nodded readily. Yuri changed Erik’s diaper slowly, showing Viktor all the steps and finishing with a scritch to Erik’s belly, who gurgled happily up at them, his arms flailing upward and making them both smile down at him.

“Wow, amazing!” Viktor said, clapping his hands.

Yuri’s eyes widened in realization.

“Motherf–  _Viktor_!” 

The man had avoided changing Erik’s diaper.  _Again_.


	6. "... Or we can chill in our underwear."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> JJBek, T, "... Or we can chill in our underwear." from @severeminx!

“Hey man, you really can’t pine after that Junior skater forever,” JJ said, slapping Otabek’s back as he sat down on the bed next to him. They were both training in JJ’s home rink, and the Canadian skater’s family had offered to host Otabek while he trained with them for the next year. It had been a long, grueling day at the rink, and they were just now getting ready for bed.

JJ, frankly, was amazed at the lengths Otabek went to to become better at his craft and hone his skills as a skater. If he didn’t have the good fortune in having parents who had been skaters, who could coach him themselves, JJ didn’t know if he would have been able to trek all over the world to find the training he needed like Otabek had done.

Otabek had been looking at his phone at a photo of the Junior skater he idolized, Yuri Plisetsky from Russia. The boy was impressive and would be even moreso when he joined the senior division. Even JJ had to admit he was in awe of - and intimidated by - Plisetsky at times.

“I’m not pining, JJ,” Otabek finally responded, locking his phone and setting it on the night stand. He scooted back on the bed until he could lean against the wall, crossing his outstretched legs. “Yuri is a force of nature. I want to get on his level.”

JJ rolled his eyes and joined Otabek in leaning against the wall, their bodies pressed against each other. Otabek was just a little bit shorter than JJ, and their nearly-matching haircuts were a pure coincidence, but it had made JJ smile nonetheless the first time he met him in the Toronto airport.

“Okay, sure,” he said, brushing his hand along Otabek’s arm before grasping his hand. They had come to a kind of understanding, sharing the same room for months now. JJ didn’t know what to call it, couldn’t really call it dating, but it was something more than friendship. His heart pounded just a little bit harder, a little bit louder, when Otabek was near. He wanted to hold on to that feeling.

“Sooo….are we going to bed? Or we can chill in our underwear and watch a dumb TV show on Netflix. Either way.”

Otabek leaned his head against JJ’s shoulder, hiding a smile.

“Let’s watch Netflix,” he replied, and only let go of JJ long enough for him to scramble over to his bed on the other side of the room to grab his laptop. They curled up under the covers on the just-slightly-too-small bed and cracked open JJ’s computer. The pair fell asleep halfway through the first episode of Voltron.


	7. “Eat your lunch and you wouldn’t be hungry.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phiciaociao, G, “Eat your lunch and you wouldn’t be hungry.” from @Rodinia!

They were working late into the evening, and Celestino knew, he  _knew_ that he should have had lunch earlier, but he had been so focused on their plan of attack for this season that he hadn’t even stopped to think about the sandwich sitting in his office, or even grabbing something from the vending machine down the hallway. The thought of a KitKat bar made his stomach growl, and he heard a giggle from the ice.

“Eat your lunch and you wouldn’t be hungry,” Phichit informed his coach, leaning against the boards with an easy smile on his face. Celestino wanted to kiss that grin off of Phichit’s face, but there were other people present. He settled for an eye roll and raised brows.

“If you have time to tease me, you have time to work on your triple Lutz,” he informed Phichit. They had been very clear from early in their relationship that they kept their professional lives separate from their home life - even if they had moved in together after months of deliberation, the pair still hadn’t brought themselves to telling their friends and fellow competitors, no matter how close they were to them.

Phichit saluted Celestino with a mocking grin on his face as he twirled away.

“As you say,  _sir_.”

Celestino gulped and stood on trembling legs. That boy was going to be the death of him.


	8. "I prefer blondes."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otayuri, T, "I prefer blondes." from @severeminx!

The music from the club pounded against the walls to the point that Otabek was amazed that the building was still standing. He, Yuri, and some of the other skaters that were of-age had decided to cap off the end of the Grand Prix Final - Otabek’s fifth GPF, and first silver in the final - by going out to the most popular club in the city. The DJ was good, but the sound system seemed to overpower all thought and reason.

Otabek sat at the bar, facing out to the crowd as he watched Yuri and Mila dance together, laughing at something or nothing at all, who could ever tell with those two? He had known the both of them long enough to not ever question what the two of them got up to. It always was ridiculous and in the end made no sense in any case. He had given up on trying to understand them when the two best friends got into one of their moods over the years.

He smiled at the sight of them, sipping at his drink as he watched. He could never tell Yuri that he had always loved him, that one side of their friendship was always lopsided with the heaviness that weighed in his heart for his closest friend. Otabek would never do anything to tarnish or completely destroy their friendship, not with how hard he had worked to be on the same level as Yuri and meet him again.

Otabek felt rather than saw the man settle into the bar stool next to him, didn’t even bother to glance over at him. His eyes stayed on Yuri and Mila as they twirled around one another on the dance floor.

“A nice night, isn’t it?” The other man asked. Otabek heaved an internal sigh and tilted in his stool to glance over at the man. He wasn’t all that bad-looking, it was true. He was in his mid-thirties, if Otabek were to judge, with close-cut red hair and a devlish grin.

Otabek turned back to the dance floor, ignoring the other man.

“Sorry, but I prefer blondes.”

The other man took the hint, a wounded look in his eyes as the only vision that lit up Otabek’s sight was the blonde figure twirling and shaking his hips on the dance floor of the club, grinning like the whole world was his to rule.


	9. “I’m your husband. It’s my job.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otayuri, G, “I’m your husband. It’s my job.” from @dazedwonderlust on Tumblr!

Yuri groaned and pushed Otabek’s hand away weakly. He was holding the most disgusting medicine that Yuri had ever tasted, and he wanted absolutely nothing to do with it.

“I don’t care  _ how _ sick I am, you are  _ not _ forcing that crap down my throat. I would rather suffer,” he informed Otabek. That pronouncement was enough to send him coughing up phlegm, and he curled over the side of the bed just in case the nausea he had been feeling turned it into something worse.

Otabek sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing Yuri’s back as he felt like he was hacking up a lung into the trash bin that had been placed next to his side of their bed. Body shaking, Yuri slowly sat back up with a painful sigh, leaning against the headboard with his eyes closed to block out the dim light of the room. He felt the bed shift and cracked open one eyelid to glare balefully at Otabek, who had picked up the medicine once more and was holding it out to Yuri.

“Do you just like to torture me?” he asked as he reached out for the proffered cup.

“I’m your husband. It’s my job to make you suffer,” Otabek deadpanned. Yuri snorted and almost choked as he downed the vile, viscous medicine in one gulp.

“I hate you,” Yuri grumbled, slumping down in the bed. Otabek patted his leg and stood, tugging the blankets back over Yuri’s body. He kissed Yuri on the forehead with a small smile.

“I love you, too, Yura. Now get some rest,” Otabek said.


End file.
